The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 68

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 68**

**Aysel’s POV**

No matter how eloquently he articulated his thoughts, the truth was inevitable—one of us would end up bleeding.

The weight of my brother’s silence was suffocating, a heavy shroud that felt more oppressive than the storm clouds looming ominously outside. Fenrir’s jaw clenched tightly, as if he were trying to anchor himself against the relentless tide of truth that threatened to sweep us all away. Tonight had already been a crucible of humiliation for me, one that would stretch beyond what most wolves could endure in an entire lifetime. Yet, still, he hesitated.

“They were never mated,” he finally declared, his voice steady, his face turned deliberately toward the crowd that encircled us. “The rumors are false. The three of them grew up together—close as siblings, nothing more. Damon’s care for Aysel…” He paused, swallowing hard, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “Was only that of an elder brother.”

Only a brother.

He pronounced it like a sentence, a final judgment that pierced deeper than any claw could.

Those words echoed in my mind, achingly familiar. Damon had uttered the same sentiment years ago, back when our bond first began to unfurl, raw and untested.

A laugh escaped my throat before I could stop it. It wasn’t a sound of joy; it was the bitter kind of laughter that bleeds.

So this was my family. My brother. My pack. They spoke of loyalty while driving daggers into my back, their words laced with venom disguised as concern.

Did he not grasp the significance of that denial? Did he not understand that his words would brand me a liar before the packs? But of course, he understood all too well—and yet, he chose the path of the safer wound.

Celestine Ward was fragile, the cherished daughter who required protection. The Blackwood Pack was tied to us through trade and alliances that ran deep. And I had always been the wolf with too much fire, too much pride, and too much truth for their liking.

I was expendable.

Whispers slithered through the edges of the hall, the murmurs of wolves creeping like cold mist. A scandalous bond, two sisters entangled with one Alpha. The story shifted quicker than blood in water, morphing into something grotesque.

I recalled the times they had forced me into Damon’s arms, leveraging threats and bargaining with Grandmother’s relics as collateral. Yet now, when that very bond threatened their precious reputation, they cast me aside like an abandoned promise.

How neat. How convenient.

My laughter rang through the hall once more, a bright and cruel sound that echoed off the walls. But beneath that mocking exterior, there was an unsettling hollowness, a void that gnawed at my insides.

Across from me, a young wolfess with a porcelain-like face leaned in to whisper to her companion, “Do you think it’s true? That they never mated?”

And in that moment, I couldn’t entirely blame her.

I smiled, a soft yet dangerous expression. “Mary,” I said, my voice smooth like silk, “love and loyalty are intricate among wolves. If you don’t trust the whispers, perhaps you should place your faith in my brother’s word.”

I turned slightly toward the gate, tilting my head just so. “We were never mated. Isn’t that right… brother-in-law?”

The last words dripped slowly from my lips, deliberate and laced with both honey and venom.

Gasps washed over the hall like a wave. Dozens of eyes turned toward the entrance, where a figure stood frozen beneath the silver arches.

There, caught in the light, was Damon Blackwood—my former mate, the Eastern Alpha himself.

His face was ashen, a ghostly pallor that contrasted sharply with the storm and cedar scent that filled the air, sharp and unmistakable.

And I smiled wider, feeling the stir of my wolf beneath my skin, her snarl a whisper only I could hear, ready for the storm to break.